Read Online Long Drive Home by Will Allison - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Will Allison
Ads: Link
shovel.
“Sweetie,” I said. “I think you’re right.”
And for a split second, before I realized Tawana must have been headed for the memorial, I thought she was coming for me .
“Why does she have an axe?” Sara said.
“I think it was a shovel,” I said, reminding myself that Tawana had no reason to blame me.
“Dad, I’m not stupid. It was an axe.”
I circled the block and came up behind Tawana again. It was an axe. She was holding it near the blade, its long wooden handle swinging at her side. She looked determined to get wherever it was she was going. It occurred to me that if she tried to hurt herself, there was no one else around to intervene. I put the window down.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Are you all right?”
She kept walking. I couldn’t tell if she even knew we were there. How far had she come? I wondered. Why was she onfoot? Why hadn’t anyone stopped her? At that point, I decided the best thing to do was call the police, and this time I wasn’t ashamed of the impulse. I sped up, put the car in the garage, and took Sara inside. As I was closing the curtains in her room, she asked what was going on. I said I wasn’t sure, but I wanted her to stay away from the window. Then I parted the blinds and waited. A couple of minutes passed. Tawana came around the corner, walking with more purpose now, carrying the axe with two hands. She crossed the street into Clarice’s yard. When she reached the tree, she didn’t hesitate. She planted her feet, drew back, and swung with all her might. There was a dull thud. A crow lifted off from the branches above her. She swung so hard she fell, knocking over some flowers. The axe was lodged in the tree. At first it wouldn’t budge. She had to choke up and use both hands to loosen the blade. As soon as it was free, she took another swing. She swung as if she intended to fell the tree with one blow, as if her life depended on it. I took out my phone.
“She’s trying to kill Sicky!” Sara cried. “Stop it!”
I found her banging on the bathroom window, trying to get Tawana’s attention. I pulled her away, telling her I’d take care of it, and hurried downstairs. Tawana ignored me as I crossed the street. There were grass stains on her knees, leaves stuck to her sweater. Her hair, burnt orange in the afternoon light, was unkempt. The tree trunk was nicked with axe marks. Now that I was out there, I wished I’d gone ahead and called the police first. I wasn’t worried about the axe so much as simply having to face her.
“Ms. Richards?”
As I approached her, she drew back and took another swing, her eyes so full of tears I don’t know how she could see what she was doing. Down at the corner, a woman pushing a stroller turned around and went back the way she’d come. On the next swing, the axe got stuck again. That’s when Sara’s voice reached us. She was standing just outside our front door, begging Tawana to stop. Tawana didn’t bother trying to free the axe. She let go of the handle and looked at Sara and then me, her chest rising and falling.
“Your daughter,” she said.
I nodded.
“She doesn’t want me to hurt the tree.”
“Come on,” I said, hoping to get her away from the axe. “Come inside.”
She righted the bouquet she’d knocked over, then brushed leaves from her sweater. “I’m not crazy,” she said. “I know the tree didn’t kill him. I just can’t stand the sight of it.”
“Me, neither.”
She followed me back across the street. Sara was standing on the porch, looking at Tawana as if she were on fire.
“It’s just a few scratches,” I said to Sara. “No big deal.”
Tawana took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry, baby. Sometimes grown-ups get upset and do things they shouldn’t.”
Sara nodded, staring at her feet now.
“Why don’t you go up to your room,” I said.
Tawana waited until Sara was gone before she covered her mouth and started to cry. I have never felt like more of a
“Sweetie,” I said. “I think you’re right.”
And for a split second, before I realized Tawana must have been headed for the memorial, I thought she was coming for me .
“Why does she have an axe?” Sara said.
“I think it was a shovel,” I said, reminding myself that Tawana had no reason to blame me.
“Dad, I’m not stupid. It was an axe.”
I circled the block and came up behind Tawana again. It was an axe. She was holding it near the blade, its long wooden handle swinging at her side. She looked determined to get wherever it was she was going. It occurred to me that if she tried to hurt herself, there was no one else around to intervene. I put the window down.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Are you all right?”
She kept walking. I couldn’t tell if she even knew we were there. How far had she come? I wondered. Why was she onfoot? Why hadn’t anyone stopped her? At that point, I decided the best thing to do was call the police, and this time I wasn’t ashamed of the impulse. I sped up, put the car in the garage, and took Sara inside. As I was closing the curtains in her room, she asked what was going on. I said I wasn’t sure, but I wanted her to stay away from the window. Then I parted the blinds and waited. A couple of minutes passed. Tawana came around the corner, walking with more purpose now, carrying the axe with two hands. She crossed the street into Clarice’s yard. When she reached the tree, she didn’t hesitate. She planted her feet, drew back, and swung with all her might. There was a dull thud. A crow lifted off from the branches above her. She swung so hard she fell, knocking over some flowers. The axe was lodged in the tree. At first it wouldn’t budge. She had to choke up and use both hands to loosen the blade. As soon as it was free, she took another swing. She swung as if she intended to fell the tree with one blow, as if her life depended on it. I took out my phone.
“She’s trying to kill Sicky!” Sara cried. “Stop it!”
I found her banging on the bathroom window, trying to get Tawana’s attention. I pulled her away, telling her I’d take care of it, and hurried downstairs. Tawana ignored me as I crossed the street. There were grass stains on her knees, leaves stuck to her sweater. Her hair, burnt orange in the afternoon light, was unkempt. The tree trunk was nicked with axe marks. Now that I was out there, I wished I’d gone ahead and called the police first. I wasn’t worried about the axe so much as simply having to face her.
“Ms. Richards?”
As I approached her, she drew back and took another swing, her eyes so full of tears I don’t know how she could see what she was doing. Down at the corner, a woman pushing a stroller turned around and went back the way she’d come. On the next swing, the axe got stuck again. That’s when Sara’s voice reached us. She was standing just outside our front door, begging Tawana to stop. Tawana didn’t bother trying to free the axe. She let go of the handle and looked at Sara and then me, her chest rising and falling.
“Your daughter,” she said.
I nodded.
“She doesn’t want me to hurt the tree.”
“Come on,” I said, hoping to get her away from the axe. “Come inside.”
She righted the bouquet she’d knocked over, then brushed leaves from her sweater. “I’m not crazy,” she said. “I know the tree didn’t kill him. I just can’t stand the sight of it.”
“Me, neither.”
She followed me back across the street. Sara was standing on the porch, looking at Tawana as if she were on fire.
“It’s just a few scratches,” I said to Sara. “No big deal.”
Tawana took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry, baby. Sometimes grown-ups get upset and do things they shouldn’t.”
Sara nodded, staring at her feet now.
“Why don’t you go up to your room,” I said.
Tawana waited until Sara was gone before she covered her mouth and started to cry. I have never felt like more of a
Similar Books
